


All Things Left Behind

by plinys



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Break Up, Episode: s01e04 Let's Get to Scooping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 1x04, Connor leaves his phone at Oliver's and is forced to go back and get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Things Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon prompt on tumblr: "OKAY but Oliver still has Connor's phone!! Can you fic that?"
> 
> again not beta'd so a million apologies for all mistakes...

“What are you doing here,” are the first words out of Oliver’s mouth when he opens the door.

Connor is just thankful that he opened the door and has yet to slam it shut.

Because he really didn’t think that he’d be able to make it this far, but he has, by some miracle he made it up the stairs to Oliver’s third floor apartment without turning back and heading to his own. Somehow he had made it to standing in front of this door, just about to try and explain his whole reason from being there to the _one_ person that might have actually mattered in his life- for however small a moment they had been ‘together.’

But of course, the slamming it shut is inevitable, especially since Connor can’t get his brain to work properly at the moment and actually say something that makes sense.

Or say something at all for that.

He wants to apologize, he ought to, but Connor Walsh doesn’t do apologies, so he just stands there, staring at the one person he had spent the last two days wishing he could see again.

Until Oliver huffs, and moves to close the door.

He’s quick enough to block the door from shutting by wedging his foot between it and the frame, but all in all that’s not much of an accomplishment, and he lets out a hiss of, “fuck,” when the door collides with his foot not gently in the slightest.

“Move your foot,” Oliver snaps, still trying to push the door shut, and it would have been more charming if there was a chance that this encounter could have ended up with anything close to their previous ones had gone.

If there was a still a chance that Connor would have been able to give one of his trademark smirks, and Oliver would have followed it quickly after by shedding the layers between them, than Connor might have found it charming, but given the circumstances.

“I’m not here to apologize,” Connor states.

“Oh- good,” Oliver says, and maybe for a second he notices a hint of disappointment there but it’s gone a second later, “then I don’t have to feel bad about this.”

“You felt bad about-“

“No.”

He cringes back, and almost wants to withdraw his foot, to step away from Oliver’s door like the other guy so clearly wanted but he was here for a purpose.

“Look, I just,” _wanted to see you_ , that was how Connor wanted to finish that sentence, but he couldn’t. So he bit the inside of his cheek, shrugged his shoulder a bit, and finally said, “I left my phone here the other night, when you-“ _kicked me out_ , “and I really need it back.”

Oliver narrows his eyes at him through the small gap between the door and the door frame, before sighing reluctantly and opening the door properly, and Connor accepts the invitation to come inside before it can be taken away from him again.

The place looks the same it has always looked on any other day that Connor had stopped by; he’s not sure why that unnerves him now.

Maybe it was because a small part of him had hoped that Oliver would be a wreck without him around, that there would be tissue boxes scattered about, copious amount of ice cream being consumed, and Titanic playing on Oliver’s far too small tv.

“Just stand there,” Oliver all but commands, “I’ll go grab it for you.”

He wants to smart something back, maybe even give a mock salute in reply, as he might have done any other day, but now he couldn’t, he just nodded a bit numbly and tucked his hands into the back of his pockets.

His eyes most definitely do not follow Oliver’s backside as he heads towards his bedroom and away from Connor- most certainly not, and even if they do he’s not foolish enough to get his hopes up about getting any sort of pleasure from that side of him today.

He can hear Oliver looking around his room, things shifting and bumping against each other, before he returns to the main room with Connor’s phone in his hand.

Seeing the phone again reminds him of why it had been left here, if he closed his eyes he could still see it Oliver sitting on his bed, pressing play on the recording that Connor really should have just deleted- but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and now _that_ stood in as the thing that broke them apart.

It almost makes him want to just go buy a new phone, like he had been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours, but law school wasn’t cheap and buying a new phone was an expense he didn’t want to have to pay.

But he doesn’t he just holds out his hand, and tries not to relish the moment in which for a second Oliver’s fingers brush against his hand, before the warmth is pulled away and Connor is left with just the cold phone in his hands.

“Thanks,” he says, as he tucks the dead weight into his pocket.

“I took the liberty of deleting my number,” Oliver says plainly, “that way you don’t- we don’t-“

“Got it,” Connor cuts him off, “don’t call you or talk to you again”

Oliver is almost frowning, but that can’t be right.

“I can show myself out,” he just says, because he’s had enough doors slammed in his face for one lifetime, and turns on his heels to the door.

When he had imagined this scene in his mind, psyching himself out about coming over or not, this had always been the point in the story where Oliver would stop him, would insist that he didn’t have to leave and they’d have glorious make up sex.

Except, his life wasn’t a story.

There were no happy endings for Connor Walsh.

Just the sound of a door shutting behind him as he left one last time.


End file.
